


A Secret Chord

by mrecookies



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrecookies/pseuds/mrecookies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Love is not a victory march / It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>30 sentences in five sections, in which Brad deals with the LT becoming Nate, and his own issues with his past relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Secret Chord

**Author's Note:**

> For the 30 days writing challenge. Prompt #7: Jeff Buckley's cover of Hallelujah.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Based on the fictionalized characters as played by Alexander Skarsgard and Stark Sands in the HBO miniseries, not the real people.

**01.**

Brad wants to tell the LT that he's doing the right thing, wants to let him know that _sir, the men and I trust you because everyone else may be a colossal fuckup but you aren't_ , but every time he says something to that effect (with much fewer homoerotic implications), the LT shrugs it off or shuts him down. It frustrates Brad to see the LT break down slowly across the desert, like he's leaving pieces of himself behind in a trail all the way from Mathilda to Baghdad. Brad holds on stubbornly to his Iceman veneer because he has to; the LT's mask slips further down his face every time Command fucks them sideways and dumps them to the curb. It scares Brad when the LT looks at him with his calm, determined, and _tired_ face, green eyes shining dimly with resignation. They've won the war, but Brad knows that the Corps has lost the LT.

 

*

 

**02.**

Back in Afghanistan, Brad had gotten twin Dear John letters from Jess and Sam, and it was like having his back scored open while his heart was being ripped out. Brad will never be a poet, because he squared that shit away quick, wrote back with a curt reply saying he'd be there at their wedding, that he'd collect the ring when he got back home. Person had wheedled his way into Brad's side, like an infestation, but he'd had Brad's six. They'd spent their libo in Australia fucking whores and drinking all kinds of shots, but even with Ray leaning on Brad's shoulder and singing obnoxiously, even with a full belly of sex and alcohol, he'd still felt a ghostly emptiness that would not go away. He'd tossed the ring, some weeks later, into the sea, and had felt himself come back, felt the Iceman grow stronger with every mile he put in between the cliff and his bike. Brad will never be a poet, but he'll never let himself get hurt like that again either.

 

*

 

**03.**

"This is me," he says, a bit awkwardly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Nate glances at him with an amused crook of his lips, and does fucking _recon_ on Brad's place, padding through the house to peek into the kitchen, the bathroom, the study, the bedrooms. He can see Nate's eyes take in the surfboards in the corner, the books on computer code and bike mechanics, his computer (Person calls it the _machine from hell_ , but Ray owns a PC that runs on Windows Vista, so he can fuck off as per usual). Brad thinks that he should feel self-conscious about this, but he doesn't really. It's comfortable, at least until he walks into his bedroom and sees Nate lying on the taut covers, shirt off, lube and condoms placed neatly on the bedside table.

 

*

 

**04.**

They draw closer, him and Nate, Nate and him, and he opens up about his past with Jess and Sam. They attend the christening of Brad's new godchild (really, at this point, Brad thinks that the world just _loves_ to fuck him over) and get wasted afterwards; the next morning, he can't remember much other than Nate whispering that he loved Brad in his ear. He feels like a shit when he gets up quietly so as not to disturb Nate, and it's not really running if you are planning to return, but he does ten klicks instead of seven and has breakfast in a diner before making his way back. He doesn't say anything to a confused Nate, pretends that he doesn't know what's going on even though he knows Nate knows that it's bullshit, and it's _stupid_ , it is, but he's scared. They get stuck then, in the middle of the status quo, and he can tell that Nate's hurting, but it's a ticking time bomb that Brad can't defuse.

 

*

 

**05.**

"We're going to fix this," Nate says with gritted teeth, straddling Brad's stomach. The surfboards have toppled over onto Nate's plastic plants; half of the books on the shelves are strewn on the floor, a copy of _The Odyssey_ lying haphazardly on the latest issue of _Wired_ ; the coffee table is overturned; and Nate's shirt is lying on top of the fridge while Brad's draped over his own computer. There's a bruise forming on Nate's cheek and Brad's lip feels like it's bleeding. "I'm going to work, and I'm going to come back at six on the dot, and you'd fucking better be here, Colbert, and you and I are going to talk. No more silent bitching, no more Iceman bullshit—for fuck's sake, Brad, we aren't getting fucking shot at, so don't pull that shit on me—I don't know what the fuck is wrong, but we're going to _fix_ this, the both of us." He gets up, face still screwed up in fury and pain, and goes to change.

It's five in the morning, and Brad feels like he's the biggest piece of dumbass ever. His arms ache as he pulls himself up, and he straightens the coffee table and the surfboards just as Nate comes out of their room in his grey suit. "Here," Brad says quietly, grabbing Nate by the wrist. Nate frowns, but lets Brad take care of the tie. They share a look, one reminiscent of those in Iraq years ago, Brad's eyes saying _I fucked up_ and _I'm sorry_ , and Nate replying with _yeah, you did, motherfucker_ and _we'll talk_ before he walks out of the door.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Podfic of) A Secret Chord by PointBlankDarcy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/728487) by [chemm80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemm80/pseuds/chemm80)




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